He Took My Design, I Revealed the Truth

On the day of my thesis exhibition, my project had been given the most prominent spot in the gallery. It was my concept for a luxury estate designed for destination weddings. The walkway lined with white roses, the glass conservatory, and the timber-framed ceremony pavilion represented six months of sleepless nights. I, Zoey Cline, had designed every inch of it myself. My professor stood beside me and asked, "Zoey, are you applying to Warren Group with this portfolio, or entering the project in the Global Destination Design Awards?" Before I could answer, someone behind me laughed. "Obviously, she's applying to Warren Group with it. Isn't this basically her fantasy version of Mr. Warren's wedding venue?" "The groundskeeper's daughter grew up at Warren Villa, and now she actually thinks she'll become Mrs. Warren?" "I heard she reworked the processional path more than thirty times. She's probably been picturing herself walking down that aisle for years." Laughter swept through the gallery. Then Vincent Warren walked in holding Madison Robles' hand. Someone shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Mr. Warren, are you planning to use Zoey's venue design for your wedding?" Vincent gave my drawings a dismissive glance. "The design is acceptable," he said coldly. Then his gaze shifted to me. "She isn't." The gallery fell silent. Vincent continued. "The groundskeeper's daughter throws together a few renderings, and suddenly she thinks she can marry me?" His gaze remained fixed on me, cold and almost bored. "Zoey, stop treating something I said as a child like a promise." As I stood there, a memory of the greenhouse came rushing back. Back then, Vincent had looked at me and said, "When I get married, you have to design the most beautiful wedding ever. It'd be even better if you married me." I had believed him. And because I believed him, I studied design until my eyes burned. I won competitions. I spent countless nights working on scale models. I skipped meals so I could afford better model-making materials. But the dream I had spent all those years building had never been mine. I had built Madison's wedding out of a dream I once believed belonged to me. My professor asked again, more quietly this time, "Zoey, are you still applying to Warren Group?" I lowered my eyes, picked up the Warren Group application form, and tore it in half. Then, in front of everyone, I logged into the Global Destination Design Awards portal and uploaded my entry. If I wasn't going to be his bride, then he didn't get to use my dream for his wedding. After the upload finished, a confirmation notice appeared on the screen. Submission confirmed. Entries cannot be modified or withdrawn after final submission. I stared at the words for two long seconds before slowly letting go of the mouse. Someone behind me saw the confirmation screen and immediately shouted. "Zoey, have you lost your mind? You're really not applying to Warren Group?" "Mr. Warren has already lined up a design assistant position for you. Why are you acting like you're too good for it?" "Do you even know how prestigious the Global Destination Design Awards are? You can't seriously think this pile of wood is going to win anything." Vincent's expression darkened. He strode toward me and grabbed my wrist. "What is this supposed to mean?" His grip hurt, but I did not struggle. "It means I'm entering the competition." Vincent let out a cold laugh. "Stop throwing a tantrum." He looked down at me as if I were an unreasonable child. "You based this entire project on Warren Group's resort concept. If you enter it in an international competition, are you trying to make it look like Warren Group stole your work?" I lifted my eyes to him. "Warren Group never gave me any drawings, a project brief, or even reference material. My mother maintained the estate grounds, including the greenhouse. I based the timber-framed ceremony pavilion on drawings my father left behind. I designed and built the model myself." Madison stepped forward with a soft smile. "Ms. Cline, Vincent is only trying to protect you. You grew up at Warren Villa. Of course people will assume your taste, and even your ideas, were shaped by the Warrens. People won't know where your work ends and Warren Group's designs begin. They could accuse you of copying the company's designs without permission." Someone immediately chimed in. "That's right. If the press says the groundskeeper's daughter stole designs from the Warrens, it'll be a scandal." Vincent stared at me. "Withdraw the entry, and I'll forget this ever happened." "I can't. The entry is final." His face turned colder. "Then contact the committee and ask them to remove it. After graduation, you can come work for Warren Group. I'll arrange for the chief designer to mentor you. As for the destination wedding project, I'll make sure you receive an associate designer credit." 'Associate designer.' I had spent six months on the project and gone through thirty-six model iterations. With one sentence, he turned everything I had accomplished into a favor he was granting me. All at once, I understood. He was not trying to give me a chance. He wanted Warren Group to own my work, control my career, and keep me close enough to silence me. I pulled my wrist free. "Vincent, I'm not joining Warren Group." A hush swept through the gallery. He stared at me as though he could not believe what he had heard. "Say that again." I gathered my presentation materials and packed them into my portfolio case. "I'm not joining Warren Group." Madison sighed softly. "Ms. Cline, you're making things unnecessarily difficult for Vincent." Anger flashed in Vincent's eyes. "Zoey, what exactly do you think you'll do once you leave Warren Villa? Your mother is getting older, and her job at Warren Villa is still her only source of income. Are you really going to risk her livelihood over a tantrum?" He knew exactly where to strike. I tightened my grip on the handle of my portfolio case until my knuckles turned white. Even so, I said, "I'll take care of her." Vincent froze for half a second. Then he scoffed. "Fine. Let's see how far you get. Just don't come crying back to me later." I did not look at him again. When I walked out of the gallery, my phone vibrated. A LinkedIn message request from an unfamiliar name appeared on my screen. His LinkedIn profile listed him as Xavier Haley, the founder of Bluewater Design Group. Xavier Haley: Hello, Zoey. I'm Xavier Haley from Bluewater Design Group. I was very impressed by your portfolio. I stared at the words for several seconds. Bluewater Design Group was one of the leading hospitality and resort design firms in the United States. I accepted the message request. His next message came through almost immediately. Xavier Haley: I hope you don't mind me reaching out unexpectedly. I saw the project you presented at your thesis exhibition. I was especially impressed by the glass conservatory and timber-framed ceremony pavilion. If you're interested, I'd love to arrange a meeting with our team to discuss your work and possible opportunities at Bluewater Design Group.